


Best Friend

by Xenrae



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl's Best Friend, M/M, Rickyl Writers' Group, Rickyl Writers' Group Mini-Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 01:54:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5398442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenrae/pseuds/Xenrae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl's best friend knows what matters most.</p>
<p>Written for the RWG mini challenge -write a 400 word Rickyl fic from the POV of another character.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Friend

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Look, I don't really blame Daryl. Have you seen the other man? It's the eyes, the swagger, that soft and believable voice, all liquid silver and violent at the same time. Hell, it might even be the leather and steel hangin' low on those chiseled hips. Power is kinda sexy after all. Me personally, I ain't ever seen the fascination with guns. Too loud and too graceless for me.

So sure, Rick is as hot as a billygoat in a pepper patch, and he's a hundred other things to boot. I get the attraction. But hell, I been all the hunter ever needed for a damn long time, and now that they're bumpin' uglies and sharin' spit, what happens to me? I wait, that's what. Wait in the shade of a big ol' tree while they're holdin' hands and whisperin' to each other a few feet away. Sometimes I'm even left to myself, dropped in the bed of whatever pickup, the dust of bad roads and dry spells all clingin' to my better parts. What the hell? Sure, he's always just an arm's reach away, but it was me once. Me. Was me he held in those strong calloused hands, me he loved with rough caresses and countless moments of friendship and faith.

They're good together, though, if I tell the truth - and I ain't ever learned how to lie. He's always needed somebody to show him the way, and that sheriff, well he does that. And he does it with conviction, and courage, the kind of leadership that useless brother 'a his never had. He makes him believe in himself, too. Showed him how to be a savior, a leader in his own right, and so much more than a miserable ol' hillbilly Dixon.

I 'spose I ain't too angry. He's safe, provided for, still got somebody at his back. He's happy, after all. Never seen him so happy.

 

  _"Hey, you hear that?" Daryl picks up his crossbow from where it leans against the wall. He runs his hand over the grip, tugs at the string in a routine test of strength that's never really necessary._

_"Hear what? Come on, babe. Dead's walkin'. Let's go." Rick leads them out through the gate and toward the wood._

_"Musta been the wind," Daryl mumbles as he jogs to catch up, his old friend hanging safe across his back where it belongs._

 

_~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_


End file.
